Her grandmother literally washed her in the Psalms before each day began, though often she would change the pronouns to make the reading more personal. We trust in Your unfailing love; our hearts rejoice in Your salvation. Keep Anna safe, my God, for in You we take refuge. Show us Your ways, Lord, teach us Your paths. The words of Scripture, spoken in her grandmother’s German accent, calmed and soothed her. They provided a foundation Anna sorely needed as she adjusted to her new life. Sleeping wasn’t too difficult. By the end of the day she was often more tired then a newborn babe. Waking, now that was a different matter. Some mornings she would wake slowly, the prayers of her grandmother pulling her from her sleep. Other mornings, she woke with her heart racing, her pulse loud and rapid in her ears, echoing like the sound of thunder. Occasionally she woke rested and ready to bound from the bed, temporarily forgetting that she could no longer bound anywhere. Her eyes would open, she’d take in the view outside her window and glance around her room, and then her eyes would fall on the wheelchair and the real nightmare she was enduring would come crashing back around her.
